Having found my vehicle in another night's dream, I took to the road, and feeling rather guilty going against the one-way traffic I kept as close as I could to the inner part of the way. It kept growing more and more narrow until the earth began to crack and give way to chasm and darkness. An approaching car balanced itself on its right side, swerving to avoid me at the very last minute. It almost fell into one of the fissures. I got out of my car and found myself being able to carry it like a suitcase. No. It was as light as a paper offering for the dead. I was then descending a stairwell. It was an abandoned building filled with cobwebs and rotting wood. The smell of dust permeated the air. The stairwell reduced itself in structure the longer I went downwards. The steps had became ladders, the ladders had became silk curtains leading into nothingness. Relatives from my father's side of the family joined my descent. We had found a red packet somewhere along the journey and one of my cousins had repeatedly said how fast time flies; he couldn't recall now how much he had spent raising his children. The others echoed his sentiments.